The One I Love
by hisanachan
Summary: ONESHOT Byakuya's life story as told in his POV at the moment of Hisana's death. Companion to "Cherry Blossom Weather". ByakuyaXHisana


_**Hey there!! How are you? It's been a while, right? I know I'm behind in every single multi-chaptered fanfic, so sorry!! I'll try to update soon!  
**_

_**I visited my elementary school in the second week of October 2008 and my English teacher (I miss her sooo much! -cries-) asked me to send her some writing pieces. If you remember, "Cherry Blossom Weather" was written for English class. So, I was thinking, what if I wrote for her the companion to that, or in other words, Byakuya's POV? **_

_**So this is the end result haha. Though it's WAY overdue.  
**_

_**SOO.. if you didn't already read "Cherry Blossom Weather", visit my profile and check it out! You should probably read that one first, though. not that it matters  
**_

_**--**_

_**WARNING!!! Byakuya will be OOC!! Hopefully, this will be okay cuz he doesn't show his emotions and his mind obviously will be different… I also made up some stuff, so please don't feel offended if i'm wrong.  
**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own Bleach…**_

_**--**_

A gentle chirp of a songbird awakens her. She opens her beautiful, violet eyes and stares past me out the sliding door. I know that the inevitable has come: she is dying. My beloved wife is dying. I take her hand in my own and my mind runs wild with worry. Her hand is so fragile; it seems as if they would shatter like porcelain if I were not careful enough. As I watch her, I reflect on how my life has changed since she appeared…

--

I've lived in this world for as long as I could remember. Unlike most people, I was born here, and in addition, I was born into high nobility. But, at that time, I had little care for that fact. All I wanted to accomplish was being like my grandfather. Just like my grandfather, the head of our clan, I wanted to become captain of one of the Thirteen Court Divisions, the protectors of Soul Society.

Being the heir of a prestigious noble clan led to some of the most irritating factors of my life. Lessons on how to act as a noble, the "emotion lessons" (as I dubbed them) that taught me the self-discipline I needed to keep check on my emotions, politics, etc. All I cared for was training. I'd often train in one of the gardens, swinging at imaginary enemies with my wooden practice sword, strengthening both my mind and my body.

My parents were often busy, having the duties as the co-heads of the clan and they had their work outside the house. But, they always made the effort to be in the manor and ate supper with the rest of the family and the Elders. Mother was a wonderful Lady of the House: she treated the servants with respect and she always had a kind word to say. Everyone, Elder and the lowest servant alike, loved Mother. She was also a powerful warrior, being a captain of the 10th Division. She was always willing to help me train, and had advice for me whenever my training was not going well.

Father, I suspect, was feared, yet respected at the same time. He was the captain of 3rd Division, and when he was at the division's training grounds, I heard that he was very hard on his subordinates, always pushing them to do better in his own way. Although he drove everybody until they felt like dropping dead, Father was respected and many people turned to him for guidance. They knew that he was reliable. Grandfather almost always asked Father to accompany him to the monthly conferences with the Elders; that's how much people relied and trusted him. As for me, I held Father in high regard, and felt honored when he took time to train me.

Then, there was that head of one of the other three noble houses. Every day, she visited our house and teased me, undoing my hair tie so quickly that I only knew she was there after I felt my black hair around my shoulders. Then, as if trying to stomp on my dignity, she would call me "little boy" and try to provoke me into playing tag with her. Grandfather would always chuckle quietly and admonish me for losing my temper so quickly. Then, he would retire to his sitting room for his afternoon cup of tea with a soft smile on his visage.

But that woman! No matter how much I trained, she was always faster than I. It was not just in speed where she surpassed me. Hand-to-hand combat, swordsmanship, every form of self defense available: she was superior in all of them. For that, she became captain-commander of the Special Forces and captain of the 2nd Division. It vexed me to no end. No matter how hard I trained, she always bested me. The only source of comfort I had was that no one could outrun her. For that speed alone, she is dubbed the "Goddess of Flash"; her speed was as fast as the flash on a shiny surface.

But then, Mother and Father died. While on duty, they were killed by one of their most trusted subordinates… their lieutenants. My grandfather was on his deathbed as well; he was very ill with a disease that was terminal. I was approached by the Elders and decided to take on the position as the head of the family. As a result, I cast away my brash, arrogant nature. In its stead, I adopted a new façade: I would no longer show any emotion. I could not afford to be brash and arrogant any more.

--

I was even more diligent than ever. I constantly trained every day and worked up to my goal. Eventually, I made my way up to the 5th Seat of the 13th Division. But that was not enough. My resolve to be at the top grew bigger; I trained rigorously every single day, and eventually made my way up to lieutenant of the 13th. I was now striving to be captain of one of the divisions. Many of the divisions were being run by their lieutenants; for an unknown reason, their captains have disappeared, leaving their responsibilities to their second-in-commands.

My sword (my sword is, in essence, part of my soul; therefore she knows everything I desire, need, etc) managed to convince me to take a break from all that training I was putting myself through. In her words, I was "too obsessed with attaining the captain rank" and I "desperately need a break." I somehow found myself in the slums. Why I went there, I did not know. However, I realized as I strolled along the border between the Court of Pure Souls and the slums that there were many cherry blossom trees in bloom. Cherry blossoms were Mother's (and my) favorite flowers.

I found a place near the river closest to the gate I came through. The sun was sinking into the horizon and the reflection mirrored on the glassy surface of the river was one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. I was surprised, however, to see a young girl leaning against the tree. I nearly thought it was Mother lounging against the tree… but Mother is deceased.

I came closer and voiced that the view was "a truly beautiful sight." The young woman immediately tensed up and whirled around. I swear, it was swift enough for the young lady to get whiplash. She was a lovely young lady. She was wearing a dirty, ragged robe that I could discern used to be a pale lavender with exquisite deep violet embroidery. The robe's color had now faded to a dirty pale, pale lavender (almost white) color, and the embroidery was frayed and the color had become a pale lavender.

But what really mesmerized me were her eyes. Her eyes were a deep amethyst, probably identical to the original color of the embroidery on her robe. I could read the pain (_what pain is that girl carrying?_), the sorrow (_what sorrow has she felt?_), the _hardships _this woman lived. And for some reason, I actually felt empathy for the poor woman. A noble should not care for a commoner (_a commoner from District Seventy-Eight no less!_); however I felt this pain, this _sorrow_ she felt.

I openly admired the beauty of the sight in front of us. She quietly agreed with my opinion. We made small conversation until the stars emerged, creating a blanket of twinkling lights in the night sky. I suddenly realized the lateness of the time, and prepared to return home before the Elders got irritated with my prolonged absence. With a start, I realized I did not know the young lady's name; therefore I inquired her name. It was a simple, but beautiful, name. Repeating it, I ended our conversation with my own name. As bad as I felt, leaving her there in that place, I left her kneeling there by the still river.

--

Paperwork never ceased to pile up on my desk. Even now it does, but that one morning, the workload was completely ridiculous. I could not see over the top of the stack, even though I was standing up. It did not help that I was blessed with a tall height. What a wonderful way to start the day.

After a whole day passed and the stack of the wretched paperwork kept getting taller and taller, I told myself that this would not do. I left the division grounds and left the Court. While the slums were not a good place to wander in idleness, the street symbolizing the border between the Court and the slums was a calm, subdued place to wander.

I saw a young woman swinging her legs on an old traditional wooden bridge by the wall. The sight looked like a scene out of one of those romance novels the noble ladies wasted their time reading. The lady's back was turned on me, and she seemed to be gazing into the distance with a mask of concentration gracing her facial features. The moon was gazing into the mirror below it, basking in its glorious reflection.

I stepped forward and watched as the young lady turned around in surprise. Ah. It was the girl from before. Her robe was worn thinner than last time. I frowned, pursing my lips a little. Winter was in less than a moon. Then, I reprimanded myself. Why did I care so much about this woman?

With a start, she sank into a low bow. Chuckling, I realized that she knew my status. She was probably the only person who ever treated me like an ordinary person; yes, I deduced that she was respectful (hence, her bow), however… she did not treat me like a noble. The way she treated me was a trusted companion. It was a warm welcome after being treated specially, being a lieutenant and being pampered by the servants back at the manor… However, it was a new feeling; I realized this woman was different than the irritating women who surrounded me at work and at socials. I told her to address me informally, and took a seat next to the intriguing woman.

We socialized amiably for the time we spent sitting on the bridge. She seemed awed at my description of life in the Court. Likewise, I was awed at life in the slums. To be more accurate, I was more in awe of her: How did she, a fragile, defenseless young girl, manage to survive such a harsh place? She modestly said that one would get used to all the stealing and hardships. I really cannot fathom how one can become accustomed to such hardships…

The cherry blossom petals were gracefully riding the wind. One smooth petal became tangled in her raven locks and danced to the wind in its confines. Subconsciously, I removed the petal and tucked it behind her ear. I was surprised at myself, but thankfully, she didn't notice my surprise. I mentally thanked the teachers that taught me how to suppress my emotions. She looked away in embarrassment, blushing a new shade of red that became her complexion. Amusement flickered in my eyes briefly.

It was getting late. I stood to leave; I also requested that we meet again sometime. With a shy smile, she rose as well and agreed to my request. Again, to my surprise, I gave her a brief smile and left her standing there. As I walked back to the Court, I deliberated on why I smiled at her when I haven't smiled since my parents' death years ago.

--

After that second meeting, we came to meet by the river often. At times, we did not even say anything, but the silence was comfortable; we silently observed the sunsets. I anticipated the nights when we met; at those times, I could forget about the countless duties of being the head, and my lieutenant duties. Of course, I could also avoid the Elders' pressuring to find a wife to produce an heir.

I always felt this dread when the time to return home approached. Dread, for having to leave her to survive in that horrible slum. Dread, for having to return to the Court to the clan and the Elders. Initially, I was pondering on why I felt that way. After a long deliberation, I realized that I was in love with that young lady from the slums.

As we continued our daily meetings by the river, I finally decided to ask her hand in marriage. However, there was a problem: the Elders. The Elders were constantly sending me to various socials every week in the hopes that I would find a woman to take as Lady of the House. I did not have any intention to marry; I had to focus on the clan and my duties as a lieutenant. Besides, there was not a young lady I found interest in. They were all after the high nobility they would receive in marriage, the riches, the splendor… They would not be able to fulfill the duties of the Head Lady.

But somehow, I felt that this woman could. This particular lady was kind, sympathetic, loving, and she seemed to have a great sense of responsibility. I knew she would treat the servants with kindness and that they would surely respect her. The Elders may not accept her at all, but I was sure she would treat them with respect (_even though they don't deserve it_). She did not strike me to be the type to go after money. So, I decided to tell the Elders of my plan. The plan to propose to her.

As I expected, the Elders went into an uproar. They all vehemently opposed my proposal. They claimed that a commoner would taint the pure line of nobility. In an attempt to change my mind, the Elders frantically listed all these "exemplary" qualities their list of suitors exhibited. Everything they said was not the impression left on me by those "wonderful, pure ladies". For all I knew, the young maid from the slums was better than they were. She was the pure one, not they. Besides… they just wanted a powerful alliance with another noble house. The excuse of the marriage between a commoner and a noble tainting the line of nobility was not strong enough. For all they knew, a commoner in the outskirts of the Court could have been a noble in their life in the living world.

Then, they argued that marriage to a commoner would bring shame to our clan. I pondered on that, but it didn't matter to me. The other clans have had their share of disgraces, some of which are worse than this one. Every noble clan has some, even ours; it's just that the Elders refused to believe that. More than half were committed themselves.

I overrode their arguments. Truthfully, I only went to the Elders as a courtesy. I knew I could easily marry her. After all, my word was the last. The Elders had no choice but to go along with my decision. And I decided to marry her.

The next time we met, I proposed to her. She seemed surprised and protested that the Elders would oppose it. She worried about the shame it would bring the clan and the scorn I would surely receive if I married her. I myself secretly worried that she might reject my proposal. It turned out that I didn't have to. She accepted my proposal, much to my relief and joy. For the first time since my parents' death, I felt my heart open up with love for this young lady.

--

It was three years since our marriage. Every day, she went out into the slums to search. I never knew what or who she was searching for. But that did not discourage me. Whenever I had the time, I accompanied my wife on her excursions to the slums. She almost refused my help, claiming that I should not have to be exposed to the squalor. However, I insisted on helping her; the condition of the slums did not faze me much. At the very least, I wanted to be able to understand her better. That included her background, which I knew little about.

So I acquired some shabby, commoner's clothes from a servant. I could tell my wife was unaccustomed to seeing me in such clothes, but for me, I felt that it was one step closer to understanding how my wife used to live. When I saw how she had to sneak out through the kitchen backdoor, I was outraged, yet touched at how kind the servants were treating her.

Every search resulted with empty hands and hearts. Not bearing to see my wife so despondent, I murmured soothing words into her ear: tomorrow would be another day to search, tomorrow will be another day to hope for success. I hoped that those words would give her strength and hope.

One night, I was waiting for her in the dining hall. We were to have dinner together; however, she was late. Worried, I was about to search for her when I heard yells and screams outside. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that beheld me when I reached the source of the commotion. There was my wife, pale and lying on the ground, servants and maids surrounding her. Panicking, I pushed through the circle around her, carefully scooped her into my arms, and ran to our rooms, instructing the servants to call the physician immediately. The entire time, I prayed to dear God, _Please, please let her be alright._

--

That collapse was two years ago. It is now her favorite season, the early spring before the first plum blossom. My wife is so very weak, not having the strength to even stay awake for long periods of time. I sit here holding her hand as she relays to me her dying wish.

Her wish is for me to find her sister in her place. I realize that this was who she was searching for all along. She continues in a soft voice, almost begging me to find her sister and to defend her with my whole heart and soul. She asks that her sister be a part of this family and for me to let her call me "brother".

However, she goes on to request that I do not tell the girl that she is her older sister. This request shocks me. I am on the verge of asking her why, when she answers my unspoken question with her reasoning that having abandoned the girl as a mere infant, she is no longer worthy of the title "older sister".

I silently agree to every part of the wish. Then, seeing how all this talking is affecting her, I implore her to rest and then voice aloud that I will carry out her last wish. By reassuring her, I hope to soothe her mind so she could rest and conserve her strength to hang on a little longer. Suddenly, I feel a slight pressure on my hand clasping hers. Gazing into her face, I see her dull eyes brimming with tears.

Her next words shock me. She apologizes for not loving me as much as I loved her. I blink back tears and think to myself, _What nonsense_. She has loved me in so many ways, can she not see that? Hoping to distract her, I turn around and point out a lone plum blossom, the first one of the year, which I tell her, has bloomed for her before she passes on.

Now she has strength left only to whisper. Her next words are full of gratitude, full of thanks for the last five years of her life. Her words resonate through my heart, _They were like a dream; a most beautiful dream that I never want to wake up from_. My heart clenches painfully as I realize that the end is near. A lone tear trickles down her cheek as she murmurs my name for the last time. Her eyes close. Her grasp in my hand becomes limp. A sob catching in my throat, I hang my head, tears splashing onto our linked hands. She is gone. The one I love...

--

**Finally, finished this. It took me a year to finish. Don't know how that's possible, but...**

**Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed! Please R&R!**

**love always,  
hisanachan**


End file.
